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So much passion! Miriam thought. Her heart was moved. Will I catch fire too, around so much
ardor?
He  began  to  kiss  her  hand.  Hotly,  unthinkingly.  He  took  hold  of  the  other  and  began
kissing them both.
She  looked  over  his  head.  Her  eyes  seemed  absorbed  in  thought.  This is how Mohammed
loved me when he carried me off from Moses’s. Only he was more mature, wilder. She felt stung by
the thought. Why do all the best things come too late?

---

The  girls  were  crestfallen  when  they  saw  that  ibn  Tahir  wasn’t  paying  any  attention  to
them. They grew quieter, talking in whispers, and they felt more and more awkward around
the enraptured couple.
At last ibn Tahir whispered to Miriam.
“I’d like for us to be alone.”
She went over to the girls and asked them to go to their rooms and entertain themselves
there.
They obeyed her. Some of them were hurt.
“You want to have everything for yourself,” Rikana said softly. “What will Sayyiduna say
when he hears you’ve fallen in love with another?”
Miriam just smiled playfully.
“Girls, we’ll take the wine with us! We’ll be the only ones having fun, if that’s how it has to
be.”
Taviba made peace with fate. Miriam could sense her power, and so didn’t take offense.
She gave each one of them a kind look, and she gently hugged Safiya.
“We’ll compose a song about how you’ve fallen in love,” Sit threatened. “When we come
back we’ll sing it so he can hear.”
“Go ahead, compose it and sing it.”
She dismissed them and returned to ibn Tahir.
He was feeling awkward, and this carried over to her too. She poured wine into both their
cups and toasted him.
They gazed into each other’s eyes.
“You were going to tell me something, ibn Tahir.”
“Every  word  is  too  pale  to  express  what  I  feel  now.  I  feel  as  though  I’ve  undergone  an
illumination. I’ve understood so many things in this short time! Do you know the story of
Farhad  and  the  princess  Shirin?  Since  I  first  saw  you,  I’ve  felt  that  we’ve  already  met
somewhere  before.  Now  I’ve  finally  figured  it  out.  You’re  how  I’ve  always  imagined  the
princess Shirin. Except that the image in front of me now is far more perfect. Don’t smile at
this, Miriam. As Allah is in heaven, now I understand poor Farhad. To look at so much beauty
every day, and then be separated from it forever! Wasn’t that a punishment from hell? Farhad
couldn’t help but go mad. He couldn’t help but carve the image he’d constantly had before
him out of the living rock. Allah, how horrible his pain must have been! For there can’t be
anything more terrible than to be aware every day of the loss of such limitless happiness that
will never come again.”
Her eyes were lowered. She was half kneeling, half leaning on the pillows. Her body shone
through her veils like a marble statue. The oval shape of her face, her arms and legs, her size,
everything  was  in  such  wonderful  proportion.  He  stared  at  her,  mesmerized.  He  felt  as
reverent as before a sacrament. His soul was shaken by so much perfection. He moaned with
delectable pain. Suddenly he noticed tears dropping on his hands.
Miriam was frightened.
“What’s the matter with you, ibn Tahir?”
“You’re too beautiful. I can’t bear your beauty. I’m too weak.”
“You crazy, silly boy!”
“Yes, I’m crazy, I’m insane. This instant Sayyiduna and the martyr Ali mean as much to me

---

as the emperor of China. I could dislodge Allah from his throne and put you in his place.”
“You really have gone mad! Those are blasphemous words. You’re in paradise!”
“I don’t care. Let me be in heaven or in hell. As long as you’re with me, my Shirin, my
heavenly Shirin.”
She smiled.
“You mistake me for another. I’m not Shirin. I’m Miriam, a girl of paradise.”
“You’re Shirin. Shirin. And I’m Farhad, doomed to be separated from you and go mad with
the pain.”
What fiendish wisdom to send this passionate boy precisely to her! Indeed. Ibn Sabbah was
the horrible dreamer from hell.
Her decision was quick. She wrapped her arms around ibn Tahir’s neck and brought her
face close to his. She looked deep into his eyes from close up. His entire body began to shake.
A  weakness  overcame  him,  as  though  his  body  were  too  fragile  a  vessel  for  the  violent
passion overtaking it.
She kissed him on the lips.
He didn’t move. He didn’t embrace her. Slowly he began to lose consciousness. The summit
of bliss was approaching.
During this time the girls had crowded together in one of the bedrooms. They threw some
pillows down on the floor and spread out comfortably on them. They poured themselves full
cups  of  wine  and  began  drinking  in  earnest.  They  grew  more  and  more  boisterous.  They
began to sing, then they bickered, and made peace again, kissing and hugging each other.
This was the mood that Apama found them in. At first she cautiously lifted the curtain. But
when  she  was  convinced  there  was  no  danger  of  intruding  on  their  guest,  she  walked  in
noisily.
“Where have you got the visitor? Where is Miriam?”
She was shaking in anger and agitation.
“They’re in the room alone.”
“Is  this  how  you  carry  out  Sayyiduna’s  orders?  This  will  mean  your  heads!  The  woman
could be giving away secrets to that boy this very minute, and you sit here whinnying like a
bunch of fillies!”
Some of them burst out in tears.
“Miriam ordered us to leave them alone.”
“Go back to them this minute! Throw yourselves at the boy and try to get out of him how
many of our secrets the slut has revealed to him. One of you come report back to me. I’ll be
waiting behind the white rose bush to the left of the pool.”
When  they  entered  the  central  hall,  they  were  greeted  by  a  strange  sight.  Ibn  Tahir  lay
motionless and pale like a corpse. Only a blissful smile played across his lips. Miriam was
bent over him, gazing intently into his face. Slowly she turned her eyes from him and caught
sight  of  the  companions.  She  could  tell  from  their  timidity  that  something  must  have
happened. She got up and went over to them.
“Apama?” she asked.
They nodded. She shrugged indifferently.
“Did you compose a song?”

---

“We did.”
Ibn  Tahir  had  woken  up.  He  rubbed  the  drowsiness  from  his  eyes  and  looked  around
serenely.
“With your permission, we’ll sing for you.”
“A song? It would be a pleasure.”
Ibn Tahir was visibly cheered.
They lifted their harps and bells and began boldly singing.
Among the maidens in paradise
Was one named Miriam.
She had been fashioned for love’s delights
Like no single other one.
Her skin was as pale as milk,
Exuding the scent of a rose.
Framed by dark tresses, like a
Golden moon, her face would glow.
With dark eyes and luscious lips,
Full and red as a poppy,
Slender arms and lissome legs,
And a bearing as grand as a queen’s.
But of all the maidens Allah
Singled her out especially.
For as fair of face and limb as she was,
More astounding was her acuity.
She was familiar with all of the mysteries
That fill both heaven and earth.
She was keen on the sciences, fond of the arts,
And found in them the highest worth.
And how does this maiden fare tonight,
The princess of knowledge and wit?
She seems to have been taken by surprise,
And there’s a curious blush on her cheek.
Of course the rest of us know
What’s happened here, what’s gone awry.
Her Pahlavan has laid her low,
He’s stolen her heart on the sly.
And now this princess, this Miriam of ours,
As much as she may show reserve,
Is head over heels, inside and out

---

In love with this hero of hers.
Meanwhile Apama had sent for Hasan. Adi waited for him and ferried him down the canal
to a concealed location.
“Why did you call for me?” he asked irritably.
“Don’t  be  angry,  master.  Everything  is  going  fine,  except  in  this  garden.  Either  Miriam
doesn’t know, or doesn’t want to know, how to overwhelm an unfledged boy.”
She relayed what she had heard and observed.
“It appears to me Miriam has chosen the right approach. Ibn Tahir is quite different from
the other youths. Is that all you called me here for?”
“Chosen the right approach? You say that to me, when you know that there wasn’t a man
who could resist me? So I’m a bungler, and Miriam is the artist?”
Hasan suppressed a smile.
“Why bicker? Miriam just has different views about these things.”
“She has views? Merciful heavens! And where would she have gotten them? From her old
Jew, maybe? Or from that desert wild man?”
“What if she has them from me?”
“You’re trying to humiliate me. Just remember, I have a sense she’s going to betray you to
the boy. She’s fallen in love with him.”
Due to the darkness she didn’t notice the flush that suffused Hasan’s face. But she did sense
that she had touched a sore spot.
“They’re kissing and cooing like doves. He’s a poet, you know, and that never fails to have
an effect on a woman’s heart. From now on she’s going to worry about him. She intentionally
sent the girls out of the room so she could be alone with him. She’s going to warn him to be
careful.”
The ground crunched under footsteps. Adi had brought Rikana. She shuddered when she
saw Hasan next to Apama.
“Don’t be afraid. What are the two of them doing now?”
“It looks like ibn Tahir has fallen in love.”
“And Miriam?”
Rikana lowered her eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“I’d like to speak with her,” Hasan said.
Rikana looked at Apama, perplexed.
“What are you shilly-shallying about?” he asked.
“How am I supposed to tell her? And what if ibn Tahir goes with her?”
“She has to come. She’ll find an excuse.”
She bowed and dashed off. When she came in, Miriam quietly confronted her.
“Did you see Apama?”
“Yes. And Sayyiduna is down by the water. He’s waiting for you. Think up an excuse to tell
ibn Tahir and go see him.”
Miriam went back to ibn Tahir.
“Do you really love me?”
“You doubt it?”
“Prove it. Write me a poem.”

---

Ibn Tahir panicked.
“How is a wretch like me supposed to compose something worthy of you? Miriam, don’t
put me to shame.”
“If you love me, write a poem.”
“How could I? With you around …?”
“Don’t  worry.  I  won’t  get  in  your  way.  I’m  going  out  to  the  gardens  to  pick  you  some
flowers. In the meantime, you write a poem about your love.”
She turned to face the girls.
“You stay here with him and play him some music.”
As she left, she whispered to Rikana.
“Don’t let him out of the hall. You’re all responsible.”
With her coat on, she hurried into the gardens.
Near the boats she caught sight of Hasan. He took firm hold of her hand.
“Does he believe he’s in paradise?”
“He’s in love, so he believes he’s in paradise.”
“That’s  not  an  answer.  You  look  different  to  me  somehow.  You  know  there  will  be  no
mercy if the boy doesn’t prove himself.”
“I guarantee he will. Now tell Apama to stop lurking around like a ghost and interfering
with my work.”
“It would be better if you’d kept cool. Be careful you don’t lose control of the reins.”
Had she heard right? Hasan felt hurt? So he did care about her, after all.
“Don’t worry, ibn Sabbah. I have the reins firmly in hand.”
“I expected no less. How did you excuse yourself when you left?”
“I gave him an assignment. I told him to write me a poem.”
He took her by the arm and led her a few paces away from the shore.
“Do you think he’s fallen very much in love?”
“Absolutely.”
“And you?”
“Does that matter to you?”
“Probably not. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked.”
“Ibn Tahir is a gifted youth. But he has a long way to go before he’s a man.”
“Go back now and put him to sleep as soon as possible.”
She couldn’t help giggling slightly.
He kissed her on the forehead and rejoined Apama.
“It looks like the master is jealous.”
“Maybe. In any case, less jealous than Apama is.”
He waved to her as they parted and then ordered Adi to ferry him back to the castle.
“When  I’m  back  in  the  tower,  I’ll  give  a  sign  to  the  trumpeters.  There’s  been  enough
excitement for tonight.”
Something was weighing down on his heart. He remembered Omar Khayyam, lying amidst
his pillows in Nishapur and drinking wine, a beautiful girl serving him while he writes poems
and laughs at the whole world. He was free to contemplate and perceive. To enjoy perfect
tranquility. At this instant he envied him.
“Yes, he drew the best lot of the three of us.”

---

The girls noticed that Miriam had returned smiling. She brought in a whole armful of flowers
and  strewed  them  around  ibn  Tahir,  who  was  leaning  over  a  tablet  covered  with  writing.
They immediately felt relieved.
“Did you write the poem?”
“I tried, at least.”
“He already read us some of it,” Sit said. “Your head will spin.”
“I’m dying of curiosity.”
She picked up a pellet and held it firmly in her fist. She dropped to her knees beside ibn
Tahir. She leaned up against him, looking over his shoulder at the tablet. She imperceptibly
dropped the pellet into his cup.
He read:
Oh, how could I, like some new Farhad,
Sense how fast, how fast love comes.
How could I guess
How strong its power is,
That it could dwarf my feelings for
the Prophet and Sayyiduna,
And for the martyr Ali,
Who till now was closest to my heart.
Allah, who sees into our soul,
Who fashioned Miriam more beautiful than Shirin,
Who sees and knows and understands us all:
What should I do now,
That love has overwhelmed my heart so,
That all I see and hear and feel is her,
The one you’ve placed in heaven—
Miriam, dearest, soulmate of my soul?
Allah, please, reveal if everything that fills my heart
And soul is just some test.
Will I then like Adam, father of us all,
Be expelled from heaven too?
Perhaps you wanted me to see the prize
In store for when I set my sword aside forever.
What should I do to merit
This great bounty now, without delay?
My dearest Miriam! Till now I’ve been a blind man.
My heart thrashed with its longing,
My mind stalled with its thoughts.
Now everything is clear.
My heart has found its peace, my mind its goal.
And unimagined bliss enfolds me, Miriam,

---

When I look into your eyes.
Tears glistened in Miriam’s eyes. To hide them, she quickly kissed him. It hurt so much, she
could have died.